'I'm learning,' said Magrat. She looked across the moor, where a thin rind of dawn glowed on the horizon.
'I think I'd better be off,' she said. 'It's getting early.'
'Me too,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Our Shirl frets if I'm not home when she comes to get my breakfast.'
Granny carefully scuffed over the remains of the fire.
'When shall we three meet again?' she said. 'Hmm?'
The witches looked at one another sheepishly.
'I'm a bit busy next month,' said Nanny. 'Birthdays and such. Er. And the work has really been piling up with all this hurly-burly. You know. And there's all the ghosts to think about.'
'I thought you sent them back to the castle,' said Granny.
'Well, they didn't want to go,' said Nanny vaguely. 'To be honest, I've got used to them around the place. They're company of an evening. They hardly scream at all, now.'
'That's nice,' said Granny. 'What about you, Magrat?'
'There always seems to be such a lot to do at this time of year, don't you find?' said Magrat.
'Quite,' said Granny Weatherwax, pleasantly. 'It's no good getting yourself tied down to appointments all the time, is it? Let's just leave the whole question open, shall we?'
They nodded. And, as the new day wound across the landscape, each one busy with her own thoughts, each one a witch alone, they went home
[23].
The End
,
Quaffing is like drinking, but you spill more.
Whatever that was. He'd never found anyone prepared to explain it to him. But it was definitely something a feudal lord ought to have and, he was pretty sure, it needed regular exercise. He imagined it was some kind of large hairy dog. He was definitely going to get one, and damn well exercise it.
Written by wizards, who are celibate and get some pretty funny ideas around four o'clock in the morning.
She did nothing, although sometimes when she saw him in the village she'd smile in a faint, puzzled way. After three weeks of this the suspense was too much for him and he took his own life; in fact he took it all the way across the continent, where he became a reformed character and never went home again.
All of them, unfortunately, unprintable.
The vermine is a small black and white furry creature, much famed for its pelt. It is a more careful relative of the lemming; it only throws itself over small pebbles.
They worked. Witches' remedies generally did, regardless of the actual form of delivery.
